


Where Would You Go?

by grungepuppy



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grungepuppy/pseuds/grungepuppy
Summary: August asks a curious question of Sasha. What does he really have planned for that vault key money?





	Where Would You Go?

The Purple Skag dims its lights in anticipation of closing time. The only patrons remaing are one or two barely conscious regulars that Hektor hasn't ushered out yet. Darkening of the artificial light is often the only indication of the time the residents of Hollow Point have to clue them in on the time of day outside the expansive cave network. A low droning of old fan motors is drowned out by a gentle but persistent tapping of pencil to wooden counter.

Sasha runs her arm across her forehead with a huff as she steps out from the back room, mop and broom tucked away for the night and dingy bar mop in hand taking their place. She squints over to the lean, hunched bar owner and his persistent tapping.  She opens her mouth to playfully chide him, but thinks better of it when she sees the peaceful look of concentration on his face. It’s not an expression he submits often, opting for a scowl or insincere smirk, and considers it a small gift when he gets a moment to give his tense facial muscles a rest.

It was a few days ago when Sasha brought the news of a lucrative vault key deal to August. She played it cool, made sure to not be too eager. She matched August’s penchant for skepticism and caution when she brought it up, but spared no amount of reassurance when his interest was piqued. A good friend of hers, she had told him. A credible source. A source he had only Sasha’s word on.

It was good enough for him.

Sasha buffs the worn counter while taking side glances at the silent man who leaned over a notepad, lost in his thoughts. Since that night he seemed more reserved. Sasha assumed it was because he was busy coordinating a buyer, getting ready for when he was to meet this alleged archeologist friend of hers. This was not as straight forward as moving counterfeit cigars and stolen ammo caches after all. He seemed to be going to great lengths to take all the precautions he could with this deal. It was, in fact, a _lot_ of money.

“Where would you go?”

The dark haired woman stops in mid wiping motion at his voice, having realized she was as lost in thought as he was and had been cleaning the same portion of the counter for longer than intended. She clears her throat a little, perking up as she moves her damp towel further down the bar.

“Where would I what?” she glances back to him, having just noticed he was leaning back on the stool he sat on, hands folded behind his head. The look on his face was still pensive, though now he gazed at the woman slinking in his direction rather than the frayed tablet of paper. He looked relaxed despite it all.

“If you could get off Pandora. Where would you go?”

Sasha’s eyebrows raised a moment before skillfully turning her mildly stunned look into a cocky expression, bracing a fist to her cocked hip.

“Are you kidding? And leave all this?”

“Don’t give me that, Sash,” August grumbles, but with a fondness in his voice. “Just speaking hypothetically. If you could… where would you go?”  
  
Her arms instinctively cross as she looks to grimy mix of wood and metal planks lining the bar. Her desire to leave Pandora behind had been knowledge reserved exclusively for Fiona, the two of them only speaking of it alone and hushed, as if talking about it too loud would scare the thing away. Reserved and secret, that is, until August.

As close as they have become, or seemed to have anyway, Sasha never told him about her desire. Not in outright. Not in words. But on chilly nights when she stole a silent moments on the roof of his bar, late at night, her neck craning to peek through one of the all too few crevasses that opened into the night sky at the stars and distance unseen planets. The frown she couldn’t hide when one of Hyperion’s rockets rumbled as it escapes Pandora’s atmosphere, wishing like crazy it was her and Fiona on it, heading past Elpis and beyond. The reflexive tug of her goggles when an off-worlder regaled the bar’s throngs with stories of interplanetary travel, mesmerized and captivated.

She tugs her goggles now without realizing, but immediately rushes her hand back to the towel and quickly resumes rubbing at the water rings burned into the surface of the bar.

“Not sure really. Haven’t given it much thought.” She is quiet to disguise the lie, but recovers quickly. “Why? Looking to off load me on another world? My snoring isn’t that bad, is it?”

A gravely chuckle is her reward for the quip.

“No reason. Just… just thinking.”

August’s gaze does not abate as she finally makes it to where he is seated, unable to progress with her duties any further. Warm finger tips glance her arm, making her turn her head to dutifully smile at the blond haired man. He smiles back in that way he does with her. The genuine way. It’s not as big as the grins he give patrons or the people he does business with. That smile always seemed to give her butterflies, but for some reason this one gave her a lump in her throat.

Those warm fingers curl around her wrist and tug easily to bring her near. Equally warm lips press to her jaw before he turns back to his notepad and resumes tapping his pencil.

“This vault key deal,” he begins, his voice firming up to hide the waver in his quieting words, “It’s going to change everything.”

She presses her palm to his nape reassuringly, if only to get a chance to glimpse the pad he’d been writing on. It’s all chicken scratch, nearly impossible to read. Several items in a list are crossed out harshly. The only bits she is able to read is a number at the end of some frantic scribbles.

_Ten million dollars._

**Author's Note:**

> not much of a writer but i really wanted to do a short something to accompany this piece: https://sidepac.tumblr.com/post/162742949843/if-you-tell-me-this-i-could-find-a-way-i-choose-to
> 
> hope you enjoyed it :)


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